Come Too Far
by Lyssie212
Summary: Companion piece to Recovering Truths. "A stream of metal flashed in the minimal light, thrusting forwards while Flash turned around. The Central City hero was stopped abruptly as the knife was shoved into his chest with a thud and the air wooshed out from the speedster's lips in surprise. 'No!" Dick/Wally fluff. Birdflash. Oneshot. NO CHARACTER DEATHS. Rated T cuz I'm paranoid.


**Hey everybody! It's been a while. :)**

**For those of you who read my JayTim story, Recovering Truths, this is the Birdflash oneshot I was planning on writing! I'm sorry it took me forever, I've been busy. :1 I started it once I finished RT, but it's taken me this long to actually getting around to finishing it. Real life comes first. *sigh*  
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**Anyway! You don't have to read RT to get this, but this story is mentioned in it, and if you're going to read both, I would suggest starting with the other. But you don't have to if you don't want to. Just a suggestion~  
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**So, without further ado, some Birdflash feels to help get you through the hiatus!  
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**Enjoy!**

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: I only own the characters that aren't Dick and Wally (or Bruce, since he is mentioned. I don't own the president either [Thank God.]). If I owned YJ, Dick and Wally's relationship wouldn't be in the toilet, and I would be fighting with everything I've got to bring the show back before January.**

* * *

**Title: Come Too Far**  
**Written: 10/28/12**

* * *

"You ready?"

"Of course, Boy Wonderful."

Dick Grayson rolled his eyes with a smile as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's red-costumed waist, foreheads touching and noses brushing together. "I left the red, yellow, and green behind a long time ago, Kid Mouth."

"Yep. For that skintight suit that shows off that beautiful bod."

Dick snorted and pushed Wally back a few feet. The speedster simply laughed and tugged the other man back to him; a hand was placed softly on his cheek and a chaste kiss pressed to his nose. The ebony smiled in response and leaned into the hand on the side of his face, glancing up into Wally's shining green orbs with a smirk. "Enough with the fluff, West. We've got a mission ahead."

"Aye, aye, sir!" the ginger said in a military tone, hand flying to his forehead in a salute. Dick barked a laugh and slapped the other on the back of his head before heading towards the window, placing his mask over his bright blue eyes. "Will you ever grow up?" He called back amusedly as he slithered up the rusty drain pipe to the roof of their hotel.

"Hey!" Wally complained, a hand rubbing his head gingerly before pulling his cowl over his wild red hair and following Blüdhaven's hero out the window and into the dark Syrian night.

"And the answer's no!"

* * *

"You sure this is them?" Flash whispered, peering over the edge of the roof into the shadowed alley below.

"Positive," Nightwing muttered back, eyes narrowed as he strained to hear the frantic Arabic drifting upwards from the twenty-some people below.

"What are they saying?"

"I'm not sure…it's hard to make out from up here. Something about an arms trade…about a half hour west out of town. It sounds big."

"Aren't they always?" The black and blue clad man slapped him on the arm. "Would you stop that?!" the speedster hissed. Nightwing simply shot him a defiant grin before turning back to the traders below.

"According to my sources, these guys are planning something major, and whatever weapons they're trading is going to be used in a full-scale attack on the U.S. A few potential targets would be the President, the Strategic Air Command in Omaha, and… Bruce."

Wally's head whipped towards Dick's stoic face, eyes widening. "Your Bruce? Bruce Wayne?"

"No, Flash, Bruce Greenwood**[1]**." He said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "Yes, Bruce Wayne. Who else would I refer to as just 'Bruce?'"

The Flash backed off slightly. "Just making sure."

Nightwing sighed, head drooping in defeat. "Sorry, man. This whole thing just has me on edge, you know?"

The red clad hero placed a hand on the other's shoulder. "Hey, it's cool. I understand. It's going to be fine, don't worry so much." He reassured him with a soft smile and a small nudge from his elbow. The younger turned to his friend with a small grateful smile.

"Thanks, Walls," he said softly. "I-"

He was cut off by frantic yelling in Arabic. Both heroes turned back towards the alley, only to discover -what was presumably- the leader shouting orders to his men, pointing up towards their position. Guns swiveled upwards and the two ducked back as gunfire exploded against the side of the building.

"Well," Dick stated, turning towards the ginger. "That's our queue."

He jumped to his feet and vaulted over the edge. "Hey, wait up!" Wally called, before speeding over the edge as well. The instant they touched the ground, they flung themselves forward into the array of weapons.

The Flash zipped through the mass, grabbing guns as he went. He skidded to a stop outside of the group and unloaded them as fast as he could, throwing them to the ground for good measure. However, many simply pulled out smaller pistols from places he didn't even want to know. He then bounded back into the fray, throwing punches at light speed.

Nightwing had pulled out his eskrima sticks and was practically dancing through the throng of gang members, twisting left and right, his weapons slamming into anything within reach with intricate precision. Wherever he sprung, traders fell. A .45 caliber was swung forwards and cocked, the owner's finger jerking the trigger at rapid speeds. The bird leapt into the air, gracefully flipping over the man's head –who was firing wildly, hitting some of his own men- and landed behind him. He quickly jabbed at many pressure points on the man's body, causing him to go limp and collapse to the ground. With a swing to his head, he was out cold. The hero grabbed up the gun and threw it against the wall, damaging it beyond further use.

He lifted his head and surveyed the area, at one point whirling around and flinging a man who had been attempting to sneak up on him against the wall, effectively knocking him out. He turned back to the few men that were left, most throwing everything they had at Wally. Flash was too quick for them, though, swerving in and out, under arms, vaulting over some men and landing on others.

Nightwing threw himself at three men that had come at him -figuring they had a better chance since he wasn't the speedster- watching out of the corner of his eye as Flash took care of the other three. The bird quickly catapulted into a back handspring, one foot kicking up and slamming into a man's chin.

_One down, two to go._

One of the two threw some small, metal objects –which seemed to be ninja stars or something similar- towards the ebony, whom was able to block most of them with his weapons. However, three of them made it past and lodged themselves in his thigh, arm, and stomach. He flinched and took a step back. He lifted his arms, ready to finish them off, when a tingle went down his spine, and a warning flashed in the back of his mind.

Something wasn't right.

Through his years working under Bruce, gut instincts and process speed had become much more reliable and helpful. Time seemed to slow as he processed everything.

The two men in front of him were breathing heavily, staring at him warily, waiting for him to make the next move.

Just around the corner, he could hear a car come to life and go zooming down the dirt road away from the gunshots.

Above him, back, and to his right, a child, probably no more than seven, was watching with wide-eyed fright and fascination at the scene below.

Some rats were peering around the corner of an abandoned rotting couch near the entrance to the alley cautiously.

Then a larger movement caught his eye.

He jerked his head towards it, watching as Flash finished beating the man in front of him. But it wasn't the man that had fallen that Nightwing was worried about. It was the one behind his best friend. He watched the speedster smirk in satisfaction as the man fell. The ebony's eyes widened as a stream of metal flashed in the minimal light, thrusting forwards while Flash turned around. The Central City hero was stopped abruptly as the knife was shoved into his chest with a thud and the air wooshed out from the speedster's lips in surprise. Flash's eyes widened and he quickly glanced down to see the knife protruding just to the left of his symbol. His green eyes flitted to the side and met with the younger hero's blue orbs before he stumbled back a few steps and collapsed to the ground, arms flying up to his chest.

Nightwing was frozen, staring at the still form of his lifelong friend. A weak cough from the ginger forced him back into motion. Anger flooded his thoughts, and he saw red. He roared in fury, flinging two birdarangs coated with heavy sedatives at the two men in front of him. Once struck, they immediately went down, and he launched himself at the man who might have just killed his boyfriend. He slammed into the man's ribcage, feeling a small moment of satisfaction as he felt more than heard multiple ribs breaking and possibly shattering under his boots. He then proceeded to pound the man's head with his eskrimas multiple times, knocking him out.

He breathed heavily for a few moments, simply glaring daggers down at the unconscious man before him, before growling and turning away from the foul being. When he turned, his eyes landed on Flash's form splayed across the ground, chest barely rising. His face paled and he rushed forwards to Flash's side. He gingerly pulled his head into his lap, jerking off his cowl as well. Wally's eyes were wide, his mouth open and gasping for air.

Dick didn't dare even try to pull the knife out of the lycra-nomex covered chest, afraid Wally might bleed to death. The knife was the only thing keeping the blood from spilling out beneath the speedster. His hands hovered over Wally's shoulders, shaking with adrenaline and fear, unsure of what to do. All of his training was hidden somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, out of reach, leaving him useless. Old memories of his parents falling to their deaths and the reminder of when Bruce had had many close brushes with death clouded his mind. Times when teammates had passed, when Jason died, when Tim had left. He couldn't…he couldn't lose Wally, he just _couldn't…_

"Wally? Wally, come on man, you've gotta stay with me. Wally, _please_…"

The elder's face was paling, freckles contrasting sharply with his blanched skin. His face was scrunched in pain, eyes fluttering as black spots danced at the edge of his vision. He inhaled shakily.

"Dick…D-Dick, I-"

"No, shhh. Wally, you need to save your breath."

"No, I-"

"Wally-"

"D-Damn it Dick! Just sh-shut up and…and let me speak." He growled weakly, eyes flitting up to meet the masked face above him. Dick pursed his lips, mouth becoming a hard line, eyebrows scrunched with uncertainty. Noting the expression, Wally continued.

"Listen, Man…I-I'm sorry. I…I shouldn't have g-gotten cocky."

"Dude, you've always been cocky."

"Damn straight…And don't you f…forget it." The ginger retorted weakly. A ghost of a smile appeared on Dick's face. Wally coughed lightly, pain flashing across his features before he continued. "But…I'm sorry. For…for everything really. I just-" he sighed, wheezing. "I've messed up a lot. And I know that. I-I've always known that. I just wish I could…could erase all the times I've hurt you…like I'm hurting you now."

The younger's face fell, expression pained. "Wally-"

"No, p…p-please just listen. I've h-hurt you more times than I can count. But-" he coughed, gagging lightly on the blood in his throat. "But if I had to do it again…I-I would. Because that's what…what we do. We mess up. We had to…to get t-to this point s-somehow. A-and Dick? I…I-" he broke off as he burst into a fit of coughs, blood spattering across his lips and chin, eyes closing in pain as he fell silent.

"…Wally?" the man whispered silently. When there was no response, he began to panic. "Nonono. Come on, man. You've got to stay with me. Wally, _come on_." His eyes stung as his friend's breathing continued to shallow. "Wally!"

"Um, excuse me."

Dick whirled around at the voice, hand immediately snatching a few birdarangs and preparing them to throw.

The Arabian man that had spoken flinched slightly and fear flashed in his eyes, but he remained steady. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I not mean harm to you, friend." He said quietly, voice heavily accented as he raised his hands to show he meant peace. Dick snarled as the man stepped forward.

"Don't you dare take another step, or I swear to God one of these will end up in your throat." He growled.

The Arabian man halted and gulped slightly, hands still raised. But he paused for only a moment before he resumed speaking. "I not speak English well, but…I am doctor, and I can help your friend. But we must hurry. Not much time."

"And why the hell should I trust you?"

The stranger frowned. "You have no reason to. But my son-" he pointed to the window where the young boy had been, "wishes for me to help you. He is…fan of Flash and Nightwing. Big fan. And he –and I- do not wish for his idols to perish. I do not meddle in government or political affairs. I merely wish to help. Please," he said quietly. "Let me help you. But we must hurry. He does not have much time."

The hero's protective façade faltered, pain showing on his face. He didn't want to enlist the help of a stranger, but if he didn't…Wally would die. He quickly came to a decision.

"Alright. But I swear, if you make one wrong move…"

He nodded. "I understand. Now come. We must hurry."

* * *

As Dick gently scooped Wally into his arms and followed the stranger, the man proclaimed that his name was Sariv, and that he helped run a free clinic to the people who needed the attention but could not afford it. Which was frequent, considering the constant warring and rebellions. Sariv was very kind, but was very stubborn about everything.

He reminded Dick of Leslie.

During the entire operation, –which Sariv proceeded to do in his kitchen of all places- his son, Ari, was constantly running around and grabbing whatever tools his father required, all the while staring in wide-eyed fascination at the two heroes in his kitchen. It was any kid's dream come true.

…To a certain extent.

Dick refused to leave Wally's side, clutching his limp hand tightly, needing reassurance that Wally was still alive, and to make sure that none of the family would try anything –though he was starting to doubt them trying anything now. He hissed slightly as Sariv's wife, Ka'li, applied antiseptic to his small wounds and wrapped them in bandages, and even with continuous demands, he did not leave the chair.

After two long stressful hours of touch-and-go operating, Sariv announced that Wally would be fine. Carefully, both he and Dick carried Wally to the family's old, scrappy couch which smelled of antiseptic, sweaty socks, and coffee. Dick sat at one end with the wounded man's head in his lap, hands quickly occupied by a black tea, sweetened with milk and honey, and a slice of flatbread, made by Ka'li.

Once they were sure Dick and Wally were as comfortable as possible, Sariv's family retired for the night, leaving Dick to his thoughts. He finished his tea and set the cup carefully on the side table and debated taking off his mask but decided against it. It was better they didn't know who he really was. And earlier, before he had brought in Wally, he had pulled his cowl back over his face.

Now, in the quiet of the living room, Dick's eyelids began to flutter. All of the excitement and adrenaline of the mission had been drained, leaving the man bone-tired. He fought to keep his eyes open, but within moments, he was fast asleep.

* * *

Richard was awoken from his slumber by the restless shifting and pained groans emanating from Wally. The speedster's eyes were shut tight, a grimace clouding his features. Dick quickly shushed him, carding a hand through his wild hair comfortingly.

Wally's emerald eyes cracked open, settling on the face of the man above him. "Hi," he muttered weakly, a small, sheepish smile taking residence on his still faintly pale complexion.

"Hey, Beautiful," Dick said softly, placing a hand on Wally's cheek.

"Hey," Wally croaked in protest with a small pout. "That's my line."

Dick smiled in quiet relief, planting a soft kiss on the ginger's forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay, Walls." He murmured into his hair.

The other man raised a gentle hand to the ebony's cheek, guiding him towards his lips with a smile. "Me too, Dickie-bird." He whispered. "Me too."

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**[1] Bruce Greenwood is the actor that plays Bruce Wayne in Under the Red Hood and Young Justice. He is an amazing Batman, if I do say so myself. ;)  
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**Sorry about the quick wrap up. I was going to add on how they thanked Sariv and his family and went on their way with some more of their banter and whatnot, but with school projects and NaNoWriMo starting in less than three days, I don't have the time. Plus, I just wanted to get it finished and get it up so it's one less fanfiction to worry about over the month.**

**Also, I know the names were kinda cliche. And the whole thing was kinda...I don't know. I think it's better than my other pieces, but still not my best. At least in my opinion. Hope you enjoyed though! :)  
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**Good luck to all who are participating in NaNo! Talk to you all soon!**

**~Lyss**


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